Time passes
by The Lone Pillow
Summary: AU. "Bella, it's me. Don't you recognise me?" he said, his voice pained. "It's me, Edward."


**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

Bastard.

He left. Hightailed it out of this dead end.

It's been five months. She's still in that haze, like nothing else matters. Nothing probably does to her. Nothing more than that bronze haired kid.

She came back from the Newton's today, wet, dripping, like some... I don't know, drenched cat. Like dew dripping off a flower, 'cept that it wasn't dew; it was rainwater.

It's like she's not there anymore. Gone. Dead, probably. Dead inside. It's just...funny, weird- what am I saying? It hurts. It hurts to see her dead, emotionless.

Bastard.

The door slams; it echos across the house. It's been lifeless since he left. It's always been about him, doesn't it? It hurts. It hurts so much to know that it's only him. Only he can fix her. I'm powerless, and it hurts. She doesn't realise it, does she? Doesn't she know that there are people who care for her? I understand how it feels...too.

Every morning, it's like this. A monologue. My monologue. That's the word, isn't it? Monologue. Just me talking. Your heart just wrenches, seeing her like this.

It starts again- the screaming. The bloodcurdling one. The one you hear in horror movies with actresses sounding like cats being dragged across a grater, or whatever they say. I wouldn't know. I only know that my daughter's hurting, and I want to help.

"Bella?" I knock on the door, but the screaming doesn't stop. "Bella. Bella!" It stops.

The door opens, just a crack, and her face (blank stare) looks at me. "I'm sorry, Dad," she apologises, but she doesn't sound apologetic at all.

"Bella... are you- is everything okay in there?"

She nods, but I already know the answer to the question. She's lying. She doesn't want to hurt me, but does she realise that this makes me feel worse?

"I'm fine. I think I just need some rest."

I nod. What else can I do? I turn on the television, hoping that it can drown out the eventual screaming. Flipping through channels, I find one that can last me throughout the night.

Fucking bastard Cullen.

--

Eight months.

Has it been that long already? It feels like the day in the forest was yesterday. Not like there's been any difference, anyway.

She just sits in that blasted room, staring into space, or maybe a piece of paper, attempting to recreate that kid's face on it, or maybe she's gone batshit insane. I can never tell now. She hovers, on that fine line, sanity and insanity on either side; where and when she's going to drop, I can't tell.

It was raining again. The door was locked, as usual. She's probably at home. Not probably. She is at home. Her door's slighty open, voices coming out from it. Voices?

I toss my police hat casually onto the sofa and ascend the steps. Curiousity overwhelmed me. I always laugh at that moment. Curiousity killed the cat, didn't it? Maybe if I didn't look, I could have lied to myself; deluded myself that my Bella was just heartbroken.

"...you're... you're back. No, of course I forgive you. How could I ever blame you?"

I pause, briefly, suspicious- no, I knew. But I needed to confirm it. The door opens as I step inside. "Bella?"

"Dad!" she whirls around, her eyes widening, immediately pulling down the shade that kept the sun out.

"Bella?" I ask. She grins innocently. "Who were you talking too?" I guess I knew already; who else was she so attached to that left?

"Dad, look, Edward's back," she announces, the first smile I have seen in months. It was unnerving, seeing her smiling so brightly.

"...Edward?" I say uncomprehendingly (liar). "Bella, Edward isn't here."

"He is," she insists, a tone of annoyance clouding her euphoric tone. "He's just here." A pale arm extends to her right, and it curls, as your hand would curl, hugging some pillar or something.

"Bella-"

"Dad, Edward said hi. Really, you can't just ignore him like that." She stares, a warning look in her eye. I blink, and nod towards her right.

"I... you kids have fun. I'll be watching the tv." I leave, and I can hear her amusement and fondness. ("He's always like that. Oh, I have so much to tell you!")

I lean against the wall, the tear, eight months late, dropping onto the wooden floor. Sliding down, my knees buckle; my head in my hands.

It was time to give Renee a call.

--

Bastard.

He came back. Claimed that whatever fucking state he went to just wasn't right.

He came to see her immediately after he came back. I let him. It doesn't really matter anymore. To me, and to anyone who used to give a shit.

I can hear him, in the room, with Bella.

"...Bella." He says it like he expects her to recognise him. Egoistical bastard. She doesn't even recognise me now.

"Who are you?"

"Bella, it's me. Don't you recognise me?" he said, his voice pained. Serves him right. "It's me, Edward."

"Who's Edward?"

I turn away; back to the kitchen. Dinner is waiting. Time passes.

Fucking bastard.

* * *

A/N Many thanks to my two betas, who looked over my fic for me. You guys are the best! This a little AU, a result of me wondering what would have happened if Bella didn't meet Jacob. It's from Charlie's point of view.


End file.
